


Sailing in the Dark

by ssammywinchester



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men (Original Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Charles is still bitter about beach divorce, Cherik Big Bang, Dark Charles, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poor Charles, Post X-Men: First Class, will be more cherik content in later chapters I promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 18:03:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20262247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssammywinchester/pseuds/ssammywinchester
Summary: “Charles?”“I’m sorry, my friend, but Charles isn’t here right now,” a voice echoed from behind the neat lines of Charles’ shoulders, but it sounded misplaced and corrupted and wrong.Erik stepped forward and reached to place a hand on Charles’ arm, but was suddenly thrown backwards by an immense force. Him and the rest of the X-Men fell back against steel walls, pinned down by an invisible power. Charles slowly turned to face them, lips peeled back to reveal a wide and unfamiliar grin.“My name is Onslaught.” –  he paced around them, passing Hank, Alex, Sean, Raven, Emma, before finally stopping in front of Erik – “and I’m afraid that you people are getting in my way.”~ ~ ~My own take on an Onslaught story-line that will eventually revolve around Charles and Erik talking about their *feelings*





	Sailing in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first X-Men fanfic so please be gentle! I intended to finish this all for the deadline of the Cherik Big Bang 2019 but I'll have to just post the first chapter here and keep it updated. I'm sorry there's no Erik in this chapter but our two lovebirds will get their reunion very shortly (or will they?)
> 
> Also, check out this AMAZING artwork done by cly-art for my story:
> 
>   
<https://cly-art.tumblr.com/post/187010603129/cherikbigbangandbingo-ill-add-a-link-to-the>   


Charles slowly slipped in and out of consciousness. He felt a tight coil of barbed wire constricting his mind, getting tighter and tighter every time he strained to open his eyes. Eventually he sensed a bright light shining on his closed eyelids and woke to find Hank’s face peering down at him. His face was underlined with tension, but that slowly softened with every movement Charles makes.

“-arles, Charles, Charles, can you hear me?” Hank moved to the side, fumbling for a small glass of water. He cradled Charles gently at the back, helping him to sit up, and offered the water to his lips.

Charles took a tentative sip and sat up properly. It was then that he realised he was in Hank’s laboratory, laid on a cot in the corner of the room.

“Thank you, Hank. I have to admit, I’m not entirely sure how I got down here,” he croaked out.

“Hmph, what is the last thing you remember?” Hank turned away towards a pile of cabinets and began rummaging through them aimlessly.

“Well, we were in the X-Jet on our way to investigate the trouble caused by the Brotherhood of Mutants and I was talking to Sean about the new low-frequency sonic blasts we were working on and –”

“Professor, do you not remember the battle?” Hank turned a perplexed gaze on Charles.

“The battle? Hm… I’m afraid my memory gets a bit fuzzy after th– ”

Charles suddenly keeled over, pressing fingers to his temple and frowning in anguish.

“Charles? Charles!”

All Charles could see and hear and feel was white light. Splitting, blinding white light, pressing against his temples. Then, in the background of the white light, Charles was almost certain that he could detect a voice. The voice was faint, but it seemed to cut through the pain in his skull as smoothly as a knife through butter.

_Good morning, Charles._

“Charles!”

Charles reached out a hand to grab at Hank’s shoulder and slowly righted himself again, blinking up at the worried guise of his dear friend. He didn’t need to be a telepath to feel the concern radiating off him.

“Sorry, sorry, I think I’m just having a migraine. There’s nothing to worry about, honestly.”

He offered a small smile, but Hank didn’t seem to take it and immediately began rummaging in his cabinets again for something important. He brought out a packet of pills and reached for the glass of water again. Charles gratefully swallowed the pills and offered Hank another more confident, reassuring smile.

“I think we should run some tests on you, Charles. You’ve been out cold for over a day, and your memory loss is not a good sign at all. I really think you overdid it on the field with the Brotherhood.”

“What do you mean? What happened with the Brotherhood?” Charles sipped the water again, and searched Hank’s face for an answer, but for some reason he seemed to be holding back.

“Well Angel was there, and Emma, and that guy that looks like a devil, and Er – Erik and Raven, and a few others that they have recruited. Their demonstration didn’t go entirely to plan, and the human soldiers were fighting back, but then the Brotherhood brought out a secret weapon… That young boy that was with Erik, do you remember him?”

“Yes, yes I think I do. He kept holding onto Erik’s arm; I think he was amplifying his abilities because some of the stuff he was doing…”

“Yeah I noticed,” Hank absentmindedly rubbed the back of his head.

“I think I remember trying to get into his head, but it was strange. I could have sworn I felt Erik in there too.”

“So it’s some kind of psionic power too, not just physical? And how the hell did he get past Erik’s helmet? There must be something else to it than just telepathy or empathy, may it had something to do with…”

Charles felt the white blanket once again creeping over his mind. However, this time there was no pain that made him curl up in agony. It was like a bag was being placed carefully over his head and then pulled tight and tighter. Imperceptibly slow, so slow that it didn’t feel like suffocating at all.

_Chaaarles, let me in._

A knocking sound reverberated throughout his skull.

_C’mon Charles, I’m dying to meet you._

_Charles. Charles._

“Charles? Can you hear me?” Hank’s voice awoke him from his trance-like state.

“Yes, yes, sorry. I think I’m probably still just worn out from the other day. How are the others?” Charles shuffled into his chair and made his way over to the door. He looked back at the concerned face of his friend and shrugged. “You’ve seen me in worse states, Hank.”

With a resigned sigh, Hank stood up and followed him out of the door.

“I know, I know. The others are fine, just worried about you.”

They made their way to the kitchen and Charles’ mind was suddenly bombarded with the loud and insistent emotions of their small team of mutants.

“Professor!” Sean leaped out of the kitchen chair and padded over to Charles with the eagerness of a spring spaniel greeting his owner after a long day at work, “What happened out there, man?”

“You had us worried for a moment there.” Alex was more restrained, but Charles could sense the tension in the lines of his body – in the tight fold of his arms across his chest, in the clenching of his jaw and in the small creases in the corner of his eyes. Charles knew he couldn’t afford to lose anyone else.

“Honestly, you needn’t worry about me. You know how I sometimes get after… overextending my abilities a tad. My head just needed some time to rest, that’s all.” Charles allowed his mind to push out feelings of reassurance, but found that it required more effort than usual, as if there was some kind of barrier in his mind.

“You’re getting old, man,” Sean slaps him gently on the back with a lopsided grin.

_They couldn’t even begin to fathom the power that you possess._

Charles’s head snapped up. The voice in his head was like his own, except he didn’t think that he was consciously thinking these thoughts.

“Less of the old please, I’m barely ten years your senior.”

Sean snorted and went back over to the kitchen cabinets, rummaging through packs of potato chips. Alex moved to sit back down at the table, his gaze still closely following Charles, as Hank stood absently in the doorway. Hank slowly walked over to where Alex was sat and leaned his hands on the table.

“I think we ought to do some tests, Professor. Just standard stuff, blood pressure, iron levels… Just in case.” Hank glanced to Alex for a short moment, before returning his gaze to Charles.

“Oh yeah, we don’t want this to be a regular occurrence. No offense but you’re totally a lot heavier than you look,” Sean said between mouthfuls.

“Fine, fine, though don’t think I’m made of glass. I appreciate the concern but there are more important things to worry about right now.” Charles glanced at the radio in the corner of the room for a moment, feeling his thoughts once again flooding with the one name keeping him up at night – Erik.

Since the Cuba incident five years ago, it had been difficult to put the pieces back together with their small little team of outcasts. It had taken Charles a long time to deal with the betrayal and anger and heartbreak caused by the two people that mattered to him most of all, Erik and Raven. He had thrown himself into work; plans for the school, using Cerebro to find possible future students, training the boys with their powers and with their teaching skills. Since then, they had only recruited a handful of teenaged students – Ororo Munroe, Scott Summer, Jean Grey and Kurt Wagner – but they were more than enough for the moment and they certainly kept the boys on their toes.

Charles loved having more friendly faces around the mansion. It felt incredibly bare after the loss of half of their team. However, the absence he felt most prominently was signalled by the discarded chess match set up in his study – halfway through and slowly gathering dust after five years of neglect. He couldn’t bring himself to pack away the pawns or start a new game. He felt like he needed the reminder, no matter how much it hurt.

Hank, noticing the far-off look in Charles’ eyes, cleared his throat and tilted his head slightly in the direction of the door. Charles made a show of rolling his eyes and followed Hank out of the door and down to the medical bay – which also happened to be the home of Cerebro.

When not in his laboratory or teaching the kids, Hank had spent the majority of the last five years tinkering in this workspace – mainly on his newest designs of Cerebro, that Charles was often the guinea pig for. The first time Charles tried the new Cerebro after Cuba, he spent hours searching and searching every mind he could. He knew exactly the person he was looking for; how their mind felt, their memories, their passions, their dreams, but it was no use trying to look for Erik whilst he was so stubbornly wearing that damn helmet.

“How’s your head feeling now, Professor? Do you still have that migraine?” Hank once again interrupted his train of thought, as they navigated the long corridors of the mansion.

“Hm, oh yes. I think the painkillers are starting to work their magic.”

_Oh Charles, you really think it would be that easy to get rid of me?_

Charles froze momentarily, turning to look behind him. This time he was certain that the voice had not come from his own thoughts, and yet it seemed to be in his head. Despite this, when he scanned the hall for any sign of life, he found it completely empty.

“Charles?”

“Hank, where are the children today? Scott, Jean and the others?” Charles feigned nonchalance, turning back to Hank.

“Oh, Alex gave Scott some money to take them out for milkshakes at that place in town. He figured they deserved a break from lessons, whilst you were out of action. Also, you know how Alex loves to spoil him.”

Charles hummed in agreement and carried on down the hallway with Hank. A sense of unease was beginning to make root in his stomach. Before, he could question the voice in his head, he found himself in front of Cerebro and completely motionless.

“I think we’ll just do some tests for concussion first, you don’t have any lumps and bumps, it’s just to be on the safe side. Now where did I put – oh damn, I forgot I left the flashlight in my lab. Sorry Charles, I’ll be back in a minute,” Hank mumbled to himself before exiting the room.

Charles could barely hear a word he was saying. Even since he laid his eyes upon the monstrous contraption that was Cerebro, all background noise had faded to a buzz in the back of his mind. He could feel the presence in his mind, like earlier, but this time it overpowered him. Every inch of his mind felt full of thoughts and feelings that did not belong to him.

_Go on, Charles. Put in on._

“Who – who are you? What do you want?” Charles strained out of his clenched jaw, eyes forced shut.

_You don’t know? Why, Charles, I’m you! Who else would I be? And I just want to help you. Will you let me help you?_

“Why do you want me to put Cerebro on? What good will that do?”

_Good? I don’t think you want to start a discussion on good versus bad right now, save that for your metal man._

“You haven’t answered the question, why do you –“ Charles felt a blinding shock of pain, stopping him in his tracks.

_You do not need to question me. Not anymore, those days are over. Now, I’m in charge._

Without giving his body permission, he was suddenly pushing his chair forward and up the ramp to the main controls.

_Now, be a good boy and pick up the helmet._

Charles was straining against the movement, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he sucked in frustrated breaths. His fingers clasped the helmet and it felt like a jolt of electricity, trailing up his arms and reaching his mind.

_Mmm, that’s it. Now put it on._

He couldn’t resist. The helmet was slowly raised onto his head and he could feel his neurons firing to life already. Without even touching any of the controls, the machine was powering to life.

_Oh fantastic! Thank you for letting me out, Charles._

All of a sudden, he felt a barrier come down, like he was a prisoner in his own mind. Someone else was running the show.

“Don’t worry, Charles. I’ll look after us from now on,” he heard himself speak, in a voice not too dissimilar than his own but ultimately alien.

_Who are you? _Charles yelled out.

“Oh of course, I should properly introduce myself. My name is Onslaught.”

Charles could see a reflection of himself in the glass pane of the controls. With a grin too sharp and a gaze too pointed, he could barely recognise his own guise.

Onslaught began to frantically flick switches on Cerebro’s various panels. Then, he sat back and let out a low chuckle under his breath.

“Get ready, Charles. We’re only just beginning.”

~ ~ ~ ~

The fire alarm wailed loudly throughout the mansion. Sean lifted his head from the kitchen table abruptly, turning to look at Alex with a raised brow. In that instant, Hank crashed through the door. His eyes were wide and panicked, beckoning the two men to follow him.

“What’s going on?” Alex grabbed Sean by the shoulder and dragged him out of the door with Hank.

“I don’t know. I left Charles down in the med bay with Cerebro whilst I went to pick up a few things and now he’s gone.”

“Gone?!” Sean and Alex intoned at the same time.

The three of them were practically running down to the farthest corner of the mansion, desperate to find their mentor.

“Not only that, there’s something happened to Cerebro.”

They reached the source of the fire, finding most of Cerebro had gone up in flames and the medical bay was being slowly consumed by the same fire.

“Would be really handy if I could shoot water beams out of my chest right now,” Alex grumbled.

Hank thanked his lucky stars that Charles’ stepfather was a paranoid man, who happened to keep a large supply of fire extinguishers in his basement, among other things. It took them almost an hour to fully distinguish the flames, but they could not distinguish the strong dread they felt at the thought of Charles’ whereabouts. There was no sign of him anywhere in the medical bay, or anywhere in the mansion itself. Occasionally, the boys had practiced reaching out with their mind to find him telepathically, but this time they could not feel his presence.

Hank surveyed the wreckage of Cerebro with the face of a child who had just found his favourite toys broken and useless. Aimlessly moving around scraps of metal and charred remains of plastic, he came across a sheet of readings that had only been slightly singed by the fire. He immediately ripped the paper out and brought it to the light for proper inspection.

“Uh, guys. Come look at this,” Hank called out to the two boys slumped over in the corner of the room.

“What is it?” Alex asked.

“They’re readings from Cerebro. It was used today, just before the fire I think.”

“By Charles?”

“I don’t know. But whatever it was, it was very powerful. These readings are… well they’re -”

“They’re what?”

“They’re not something I’ve ever seen before, put it that way. Someone is reaching out all over the world. To everyone, every mind. And I don’t know why.”

Hank exchanged a worried glance with the two and then retureds his gaze to the crumpled sheet in front of him, searching desperately for answers.

**Author's Note:**

> Ta dah! Sorry it is only short so far, a little teaser of what is to come. Please let me know if you see any typos or have any criticism - any feedback is welcome! :)


End file.
